


rose

by hwanrem



Category: VIXX
Genre: Clubbing, Drinking, M/M, Soulmate AU, Tattoos, asshole taek im sorry, side keo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:12:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwanrem/pseuds/hwanrem
Summary: He doesn’t tell Jaehwan about the tattoo he’d just discovered, this very morning, on his left hip:a pretty, detailed rose -- in the centre of it a deep red, colour lightening gradually to a soft white at the petals’ edges.





	

**Author's Note:**

> completely inspired by this post: http://shittyaus.tumblr.com/post/130050356474/spookymileskane-au-where-everyone-is-born-with
> 
> basically, i quote:
> 
> 'au where everyone is born with a very unique tattoo on their ankle, nobody else in the world has that tattoo.  
> every time you fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears somewhere else on your body. (not necessarily soulmates, just who you fall in love with.)'

Loud music fills the club, heavy beats dropping out of the blue, glaring lights flashing in a different colour each second, _blinding_ Wonshik -- he’s starting to get a headache; the place is so, so crowded he can barely _breathe_ , barely anyone sober and Wonshik questions why he’d even agreed to come here with Hakyeon in the first place. No one is even caring to approach him, for a drink, a dance, _anything_. Hakyeon had said this was so as to let Wonshik have an experience of what it feels like, _adult life_ \-- but Wonshik honestly thinks it might be better to just be home, right now. Head pounding, Wonshik fumbles for his cup of iced water and takes a small sip, blinking his eyes rapidly in hopes of shutting out the blinding lights as he tries to look for Hakyeon -- a task seemingly impossible in this large and unkempt crowd.

Suddenly, Wonshik feels hands around his neck, a smaller body pressed up to his chest -- his lips parting in an unsounded noise of surprise, hazy mind overflowing with unsorted thoughts. Before Wonshik can think to push and get the body off him, there’s a soft whisper in his ear -- weirdly jarring against the pounding music.

‘ _Please_ ,’ the voice says, and Wonshik, mouth dry and blinking quickly, faintly makes out the person pressed up against him. It’s a boy, tall but still smaller in stature compared to Wonshik himself, light haired. Wonshik stares through lidded eyes, bleary gaze falling onto the boy’s mouth -- tinted a cherry red, lips glistening and soft-looking. It’s hard to make his face out clearly in such a situation, but Wonshik can already tell that this boy is… pretty.

‘My ex… I just saw him, don’t want him to notice me.’

Pretty voice shaky and tinged with despair. Wonshik clenches his eyes shut and swallows back a moan when he feels the boy’s bony hips moving against his own, feels a trembling grip on his shoulders. His hands, wait -- why are they moving? Mental efforts futile and overpowered by filthy desires, Wonshik’s hands end up on the boy’s thin waist -- a shaky hold, moving the both of them together. He’s fully sober, with absolutely nothing to push the blame of these actions onto -- yet feeling so _drunk_ , drunk off this pleasurable feeling, thoughts fuzzy and sanity melting away. Wonshik moans as he feels his cock hardening, straining tight against the tough material of his jeans: hands squeezing tight at the soft curve of the boy’s waist, hips continuously grinding against the smaller boy’s crotch in search for that sinful _friction_ \-- high pitched whimpering noises hot against his ear, drowning out the club music.

They move against each other like this, needy and sloppy and without a care for the explanations that’ll be needed later; and at one point the boy even presses his mouth against Wonshik’s neck, runs his mouth down the sharp line of Wonshik’s jaw -- lips so fucking _soft_ , mouth leaving moist and burning marks in its wake.

More, _more_.

(Oh please, press one to my lips.)

When Wonshik blinks open, mind slightly cleared out -- everyone’s still dancing wildly, the glaring lights are still flashing annoyingly, music still uncomfortably loud; but there’s no longer a body pressed against his own. His prior thoughts of finding Hakyeon have completely disappeared, weirdly -- now only filled with a strange desire for that boy which… shouldn’t be there. Wonshik looks around, gaze flickering left and right, before he spots that familiar face -- pushing a filled cup against his lips, eyes heavy lidded and -- letting out a shaky exhale, fragile frame shaken with unsounded sobs.

Wonshik stands there as he observes the boy drink cup after cup of alcohol, his movements gradually heavier and less coordinated -- a total stranger, why should Wonshik even care? What is this worry itching at him, telling him to approach the boy, _do something_? Right, he’d mentioned his ex. A lingering, unsettling feeling of _jealousy_ tugs at Wonshik’s heart. The boy finally downs the last cup and collapses onto the counter, energy almost visibly rushed out of his body. Wonshik releases a quiet cry, quickly walking over.

When would this boy finally return to his sober state? How would he get home like this? No, Wonshik can’t just leave him there: drunk and _vulnerable_ , open for simply any other person to take advantage of -- an absolutely terrible thought, Wonshik tries his best to push it away. Wonshik bites his lip as he finally settles in a seat beside the boy, himself slightly shaken by the boy’s broken, whimpering sounds.

Wonshik places a careful hand on the back of the boy’s neck, softly and cautiously stroking at the short hairs there in some attempt to comfort, to get a response out of him. Surely enough, the boy stops shaking -- slowly, he looks up at Wonshik: lidded eyes slightly swollen and reddened, cheeks a pretty ruddy red, glistening crystals forming at the corners of those pretty eyes. He’s _beautiful_.

‘Are you okay?’

Wonshik asks, although sure of the answer.

The boy looks at Wonshik, expression unreadable. Pushes another clear glass to his lips, swallows a bit of that burning fluid, then chuckles softly. Miserably.

'Why?'

Wonshik cocks his head towards one side, and places a gentle hand on the boy's cheek. His skin is hot against Wonshik’s palm, and slightly moist. The boy blinks slowly, so _slowly_ ; soft gaze unfocused. There’s a sudden, slight pang of unexplainable _pain_ in Wonshik’s tight chest.

‘You seem…’ Wonshik brushes his thumb against the faint tear tracks on the boy’s cherry cheeks, thumb soothing a few gentle circles into soft, warmed skin. The boy doesn’t give any sort of reaction or distaste, merely staying still, barely leaning into Wonshik’s touch. ‘ _Sad_.’

The boy pauses, and turns away to drink the last bit of clear liquid in his glass, setting the cup down with a heavy thud. Wonshik notes a dark tattoo, unusually inked on the inside of the boy’s pale, thin wrist. Eyes fluttering shut, the boy’s body trembles with a shaky breath.

‘I am.’

 

//

 

On Wonshik’s left ankle -- a detailed tattoo of a little sun.

Everyone else has too, tattoos on their own ankles -- none the same, each and every little work of art completely personalised and unique to the person, body. These tattoos, given since birth, are special. To some, they mean the world; and to others, nothing but absolutely _painful_ memories.

When one falls in love -- a tattoo belonging the person they love will form somewhere, anywhere, on their own body. The feeling doesn’t need to be mutual for the tattoo to form -- a source of great _pain_ , for a one-sided love. Memories of a broken love haunting one forever; tattoos of people who’d contributed to one’s brokenness, inked onto one’s body for life. Broken souls go to great lengths in hopes of erasing such painful memories, only to realise eventually, that these tattoos are simply _impossible_ to remove.

A perpetual reminder.

 

//

 

_‘I headed back first, in case you were looking for me.’_

Wonshik hastily types out a message to Hakyeon as he tips the cab driver off. Hakyeon’s probably too drunk and having too much fun to notice or care, though. Wonshik looks over to the body leaning against his own, letting out a soft sigh. With some struggle, Wonshik manages to get the boy out of the cab -- the boy is small but he certainly isn’t light: deadweight stumbling and falling straight out of the vehicle, steadied only with Wonshik’s arm coiled tight around his waist.

Wonshik manages to get the both of them to the entrance of his apartment with some difficulty, unlocking the door -- they’re finally in, Wonshik heaving a sigh of relief as the the door clicks shut and the lights flick on. Here: Wonshik hooks an arm around the undersides of the boy’s knees, hoisting his body up with another arm around his back -- arms straining with the weight, steps careful as he walks them both towards the master room, a single bed placed in the middle.

Wonshik’s gaze flickers over the boy’s body when he’s finally, _gently_ settled down onto the clean sheets -- the skin of his neck _tingling_ and a weird feeling settling in the pits of his stomach as he gazes, _enthralled_ , over the soft lines of the boy’s pretty, seemingly peaceful sleeping face; over the thin material of his worn tee; the rips in his leather-tight jeans: too high up on his thighs, exposing sliver after sliver of pale skin; and finally, down to his bare, exposed feet.

And there, Wonshik spots it -- not chancing upon it _but_ by looking out, _searching_ for it: there on the boy’s bony ankle, an inked rose. In the centre of it a deep red, colour lightening gradually to a soft white at the petals’ edges. Wonshik’s heart thuds heavily in his chest: it’s really _pretty_ , just like the boy himself.

Movements soft and careful -- Wonshik grabs the sheets and pulls them over the sleeping body, not wanting to wake him up. The covers finally reach the boy’s shoulders, and that’s when Wonshik spots it again: a flash of dark ink on the inside of his wrist, stark against the pretty pale of his skin. A stave, with a few musical notes adorning it.

Wonshik bites his lip, and pulls away.

_A painful memory._

Wonshik flicks the lights off and closes the door softly before heading out into the spare bedroom -- heavy, tired body collapsing onto the mattress, falling into a deep slumber.

 

//

 

 _Blink_ , blink -- Jaehwan squints at the sudden uncomfortable flash of light in his eyes. No, he couldn’t possibly still be in the club, could he? Jaehwan grunts softly, entire body aching and limp, sitting up with great effort. The surface underneath is soft, a bed. Jaehwan rubs at his stinging eyes and looks around desperately, unable to identify the room he’s in. All he remembers is that he’d drunk quite a bit, memories still fuzzy. Had he... done anything wrong?

Jaehwan bites his lip as he gets up, off the bed, walking over towards the full length mirror in the room. Light hair tousled messily with sleep, clothes intact. No questionable marks spotted anywhere on his skin, no sharp pains in his lower body.

Where was he?

Jaehwan takes in a deep breath as he walks towards the still closed door, cautiously placing a hand on the cool knob and twisting. The door opens, and Jaehwan’s greeted with the living space of a small apartment. A man, seated at the dining table, and two sets of bowls placed in front.

That man, and Jaehwan recalls a few events from the previous day, a sour twinge in his nose. He’d seen… _Taekwoon_ , yesterday. And then he’d rashly approached someone in hopes of not being noticed. It was _this_ man. This would be his apartment, then?

Jaehwan takes a few shaky steps towards to table, a sheepish, more so apologetic look on his face. The man looks up -- eyes kind, so _kind_ \-- Jaehwan’s gaze flickers away, breath hitched in his throat.

‘I-- ahh, I’m so _sorry_ about what happened yesterday, I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you or anything--’

‘No worries,’ the man interrupts, laughing, a deep breathy sound. Jaehwan bites his lip.

‘Hope you’re not too hungover from yesterday,’ the man gestures towards the bowl of cereal. ‘I’m not sure what would be okay for you, so I thought cereal might be the safest choice.’

Jaehwan’s heart catches in his chest, teeth digging painfully into his bottom lip.

‘Um, have a seat and eat some?’

‘Oh… okay,’ Jaehwan quickly pulls out the chair -- sitting down and nervously grabbing the spoon, his gaze flitting up to meet the man’s charming one for a split second before quickly looking down at the bowl of cereal -- swollen lips parting in a soft ‘ _thank you_ ,’ which earns a deep voiced welcome.

Jaehwan scoops a bit of cereal into his mouth, milk fresh and cool in his mouth, munching and savouring the faint taste softly. It’s good.

‘Before I forget.’

Jaehwan pauses and swallows at the sudden interruption before looking up nervously.

‘My name is Wonshik,’ the man smiles, small mouth tugging up at the sides into a pretty smirk, soft hand extended out in invitation.

‘Ah,’  Jaehwan laughs softly, reaching out to quickly return the handshake. ‘I’m… Jaehwan.’

‘ _Jaehwan_.’

Jaehwan’s ears tingle weirdly with the sound of his name coming from Wonshik’s mouth. The way he’d said it… slowly, carefully -- almost _reverently_ , as if he was something _precious_. But broken, sad, and still pining for someone that’s long gotten their relationship, _whatever_ it is that was between them -- Jaehwan isn’t worth being treasured, not at all.

Jaehwan wills the sharp pinch in his nose away, scooping up another mouthful of cereal into his mouth, feet tapping softly against the wooden floor.

‘Thank you for… taking care of me.’ Jaehwan says, breath slightly hitched. ‘I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had been left there, alone.’

‘It’s all good,’ Wonshik smiles, dark eyes crinkling up warmly. Jaehwan doesn’t want to sway. ‘You just seemed… like you needed help. A listening ear, a shoulder to lean on, maybe.’

Needed help. Yeah, sure he did.

Needed _fixing._

‘You’ve got a place to stay?’

‘I’m staying in a friend’s apartment, for now. I’m starting to feel a little out of place, though.’ Jaehwan pauses, unsure of why he’d even thought to mention that. ‘He’s… starting to bring his boyfriend home more often now. So… ahh,’ Jaehwan bites his lip. ‘It’s a little awkward for me?’

‘Oh,’ Wonshik says. ‘I see.’

Suddenly, there’s a warm touch to his hand -- Wonshik reaching out, gently clasping Jaehwan’s hand in his own. Eyes widening, Jaehwan almost flinches away -- barely, a rush of mixed emotions coursing in his veins.

‘Would you want to stay here? I… don’t mind at all,’ Wonshik says, and Jaehwan sees nothing but sincerity in those dark eyes.

But then again -- he’d been _wrong_ , before.

Wonshik chuckles, the sound getting to Jaehwan’s head. ‘I have a spare, unoccupied room anyway, and I rarely have anyone over.’

Jaehwan’s chest tightens.

‘Not going to lie… I feel really lonely sometimes.’ Deep voice getting softer, tinged with slight melancholy. ‘It’d be nice… to have some _company_ , I guess.’

Eyes fluttering shut, then blinking open: a mass of conflicting and unsorted thoughts swarming and buzzing incessantly inside of Jaehwan’s disoriented brain -- the reply suddenly _rushes_ out of Jaehwan, a shock to Jaehwan himself.

_‘Sure.’_

The regret will seep in, slowly.

 

//

 

They get closer, definitely.

Wonshik had noticed how Jaehwan had seemed… a little wary, at first, slightly reserved. Wonshik hadn’t put too much thought into that -- knowing it’s all probably because of his still unspoken-of ex. Wonshik chest still tightens a little, each time he catches sight of Jaehwan’s stained inner wrist. But Jaehwan’s definitely opened up a lot more, now -- not as quiet as he was when he’d first moved in -- pretty vibrant, in fact, cracking jokes here and there then getting shy after; adding such a fresh flavour to Wonshik’s otherwise dull life.

Their days would start with a home-made breakfast -- usually just cereal, unless Wonshik chooses to wake up slightly earlier with another menu in mind. The food he cooks always receives praise from Jaehwan, though the eggs always taste rather bland and weirdly mushy in Wonshik’s mouth. They both work, for the most part of the day: Wonshik would give Jaehwan a short ride to the convenience store where he works as a part-timer, before heading to his own office -- and then he’d drive off to pick Jaehwan up in the evening, before heading home. Then they’d order food for dinner because both of them would be too tired to move out of the house -- usually calling for two orders of black bean noodles; if not ringing up the fast food place nearby for a delivery of two sets of double-cheese burgers.

_(Jaehwan’s a heavy sleeper, always tough to call up. He shares a similar music taste with Wonshik, and his soft singing voice sounds heavenly, so sweet -- he’s always shyly singing along to the songs playing from the stereo in Wonshik’s car. Jaehwan’s a messy eater, but looks adorable with black bean sauce smeared all around his mouth -- and Jaehwan seems to like it when Wonshik helps to wipe the mess off._

_Wonshik unconsciously  finds himself taking note and remembering all of these little details._

_Falling.)_

Their days would end with them lazily sprawled over Wonshik’s couch, childish and playful bickering over who gets to choose which channel to watch -- they always end up settling on watching silly romantic sitcoms, though: sharing giggles and faces twisting into expressions of mock disgust at the many cringe-worthy lines. Sometimes, sometimes… like right _now_ :

Wonshik suddenly feels a weight on his shoulder -- he looks down to see Jaehwan’s light hair, head nuzzled comfortably against his shoulder, the crook of his neck. Dark lashes fluttering as he watches scene after scene play across the bright TV screen.

And then there’s that same unusual feeling, something fluttering deep in his chest, just like how he’d felt the first time he’d brought Jaehwan home, laid the boy down. And the next thing Wonshik knows, he finds his palm settled against the warm skin of Jaehwan’s puffy cheek, thumb stroking listlessly at the soft flesh -- Jaehwan doesn’t pull away either; a contented little noise escaping his parted mouth.

Jaehwan rarely makes it through their TV watching sessions -- always knocked out halfway, slumped boneless against Wonshik’s arm, letting out soft little breaths as he sleeps.

Like right now, always looking so peaceful.

Always so… _tired_.

Wonshik stares at Jaehwan’s sleeping form for a good while, mind blank, before grabbing the remote to switch the TV and speakers off -- the apartment is suddenly filled with a discomforting darkness, _silence._ Wonshik blinks a few times, drowsily, Jaehwan’s skin still warm against his palm, small frame rising and falling with each breath.

Suddenly feeling so -- _alone_.

What was this, exactly? A _relationship_ , could it even be termed that? Whatever it is right now, between him and Jaehwan? Wonshik stares at the red, blinking light on his wireless modem. Were there any romantic feelings shared between them? Highly likely, on his part -- but there’s still a part to Jaehwan that’s not completely open, a sensitive _,_ very _broken_ part of him, _all because of that little inked piece_ \-- and Wonshik knows this all too well. He remembers so clearly, waking up to nights with the kitchen lights strangely turned on, only to find Jaehwan: slumped against the cabinets, opened cans of beer by his side, small body curled in upon himself, arms hugging his knees to his body and head hung low -- body shaking with sobs, looking so terribly small and _fragile_. Those nights, where Wonshik’s heart always ached so badly and there always was such a strong _yearning_ to reach out, to provide Jaehwan with some sort of comfort, somehow -- if how much he’s already invested and done so far isn’t nearly _enough_ \--

Wonshik releases a shaky breath, a thrumming ache in his chest.

Just a platonic relationship, then, or simply… _nothing_ at all? Just Wonshik overthinking things and letting his hopes get the better of his rationality? At this thought, Wonshik feels his fingers tremble against Jaehwan’s cheek -- throat suddenly very dry.

Desperate for an answer, with thought after thought plaguing his tired mind -- then finally overcome with fatigue, Wonshik starts slowly drifting off into a deep sleep, Jaehwan laying by his side.

 

//

 

Tonight, is a night not unlike other ones.

Having downed merely two cans of beer, Wonshik’s still fairly sober -- thoughts slightly fuzzy, on the bare edge of being drunk. The same cannot be said for Jaehwan, though: four cans emptied and now onto his fifth one, lithe body sprawled across the couch, head resting in the heat of Wonshik’s lap, wet lips parted around sudden bursts of giggles. Wonshik blankly grasps Jaehwan’s hand in his own, idly stroking and playing with Jaehwan’s thin, pretty fingers, warmth spreading in his chest -- his slightly unfocused gaze falling onto the tattoo on Jaehwan’s inner wrist, now -- thoughts unsorted, a cautious finger reaching out to touch the skin there. At this, Jaehwan _flinches_ almost violently, hand falling suddenly out of Wonshik’s grasp.

Wonshik’s breath hitches, lips dry.

‘That tattoo… is that your ex’s?’ Wonshik drawls, and it’s followed by a disconcerting quiet, echoing throughout the apartment.

Jaehwan stiffens in Wonshik’s lap, eyes fluttering open drowsily. The wooziness in his head is gone, suddenly.

_._

_Taekwoon._

Jaehwan had been…way too young -- naïve, inexperienced and _unloved_. And Taekwoon, he’d been so kind. It was easy _falling_ , way too easy -- simply because Taekwoon had been the first person to actually show some sort of interest and genuine concern for Jaehwan. And Jaehwan was oh, so trusting.

They’d gotten closer, and he’d let himself be used in _wrong_ ways -- feelings of guilt were pushed away quickly, though, because Taekwoon was still always so _nice_. Always so soft and understanding and… _loving_. Jaehwan had fallen too deep, -- he still remembers clearly the day he had discovered Taekwoon’s tattoo on his own wrist -- to change anything. By the time he’d realised that something was off about their relationship, that Taekwoon wasn’t the same -- not nearly as soft anymore, rough at the edges and so terribly _hurtful_ \-- it was way too late.

The damage could not have been reversed.

He’d let himself be used, for Taekwoon’s personal satisfaction -- only to realise later that Taekwoon had not loved him at all -- not even in the least bit. Taekwoon already had a partner, the whole time. Everything had ended and _crumbled_ to bits, just as quickly as how it’d started. Jaehwan, abandoned, and left alone: body and mind broken, heart aching, and an eternal reminder etched into his skin--

_Yet Jaehwan still isn’t fully sure, if he’s really come to terms with this miserable reality._

.

‘Yeah. Why?’

Jaehwan sits up slowly, trying as best as possible to focus on Wonshik’s face -- efforts futile, everything’s just a blurry mess. There’s a cool touch to his face, exactly like how it’d been in the club, the first time they’d met. Jaehwan leans into the comforting touch, unknowingly, softly.

‘Does it hurt?’

Jaehwan’s heart tightens in his chest, the tattoo on his wrist stinging his skin a little.

‘The tattoo?’

Jaehwan knows too well what Wonshik means.

‘ _No_ ,’ Wonshik drawls, a tinge of amusement to his voice, but mostly apology -- pity, maybe. ‘ _You_.’

_Are you hurting?_

A long pause.

Wonshik almost thinks the night is just going to end at this, the topic never to be spoken of again, head drooping down with fatigue -- until there’s a weight on his lap. Eyes blinking open, and Wonshik’s greeted with the sight of Jaehwan settled in his lap: skinny thighs spread open over Wonshik’s body; pretty face pushed in way too _close_ for Wonshik’s sanity -- large eyes shining but tears unshed; the tip of his pretty nose reddened, so as his cherry flushed cheeks. Wonshik blinks a few times, unbelieving of the current situation, only to find arms sloppily wrapping around his neck, Jaehwan’s hot face buried into the sweaty crook of his collarbone. What--

‘Yes, fuck-- it does. It hurts so _much_.’

Fingers clenching tight into the thin material of Wonshik’s cotton tee, Jaehwan slowly pushes his hips down into Wonshik’s lap, clothed ass rolling downwards to meet a surprised Wonshik’s hardening crotch. There’s a cool sensation on Wonshik’s skin where Jaehwan’s face had been buried -- a thin smear of tears.

‘Fuck me, Wonshik’ Jaehwan _pleads_ , hips moving, wet gasps echoing in Wonshik’s ear, ‘--make it hurt a little less, _do_ _something_.’

Wide-eyed, mouth dry and unable to form any coherent thoughts or words -- Wonshik finds his hands moving on their own: disappearing under the hem of Jaehwan’s tee to roam over the flat planes of Jaehwan’s narrow chest, the soft and warm skin of his tummy, his little pebbled nipples. Jaehwan shivers and whines so prettily in Wonshik’s arms, so _fragile_ in his hold; and for a moment, in the midst of the flurry of incoherent thoughts: Wonshik wishes that everything could just be as simple as this, no other complications involved. He wants it so _badly_ , wants this feeling of pure bliss to last forever.

_Wishful thinking, Wonshik knows._

Wonshik picks Jaehwan up, palms squeezing at Jaehwan’s ass; Jaehwan’s arms and limbs secured tight around Wonshik, whimpering and _clinging_ onto Wonshik for dear life, like he’d never let go -- Wonshik’s heart aches, so _badly_. They enter Wonshik’s room: Wonshik drops Jaehwan off gently onto the sheets, carefully stripping Jaehwan, clothes gradually discarded onto the floor and there -- Jaehwan, laying bare on Wonshik’s sheets: cheeks flushed, the lines of his pale body so soft, so _pretty._

_Be mine, oh please, would you be mine?_

Wonshik grunts as he leans down and takes Jaehwan’s soft cock whole into his mouth, groans at the desperate scratch of Jaehwan’s nails against his scalp, fingers pulled tight and needy into his hair -- Wonshik bobs up and down the length slowly, fuelled by Jaehwan’s needy, pitched mewls, cock hardening and warming up gradually in his mouth.

 _‘Fuck_ ,’ Jaehwan gasps, wetly, brokenly, pulls Wonshik’s head off his cock -- bleary gaze trained onto the glistening pink of Wonshik’s lips. ‘ _Fuck me_.’

The bottle of lube Wonshik usually uses for jacking off is grabbed hastily -- with rushed and barely coordinated movements, Wonshik gets a few pumps of lube drizzled all over his fingers, slick-drenched digits reaching between Jaehwan’s cheeks and pushing haphazardly into his body. Jaehwan _sobs_ , thighs spreading so _eagerly_ at the penetration, wanting _more_. Wonshik watches it all, dizzy, wet fingers scissoring, thrusting in and out of the amazing heat of Jaehwan’s body.

The preparation is done soon enough, neither of their minds fully functioning -- Jaehwan grabs at the insides of his pale thighs and spreads them, whimpering, creating a perfect space for Wonshik to fit in, to feed his cock into the slickness of his asshole. Slowly, so _gently_ \-- Wonshik finally sheathes himself in fully, hands braced onto the headboard, blood roaring in his ears at how _deliciously_ hot and tight Jaehwan is inside.

Grunting, Wonshik takes a few shallow thrusts into Jaehwan’s body -- trying his best to control the force used, not wanting to cause any sort of hurt at all. But then there’s a trembling grip on the muscle of his arms, and Wonshik’s gaze flickers down to meet Jaehwan’s -- large eyes red-rimmed and glazed over with need, the intensity of the look in those blown orbs making Wonshik’s heart flutter when it really _shouldn’t_ be, right now.

‘ _Harder_ ,’ Jaehwan whines, calves circling around Wonshik’s hips to pull the bigger man in _deeper --_ the moan Wonshik lets out at this is embarrassingly loud, face heated with arousal. Hands moving down to grab at the sharp bone of Jaehwan’s hip, Wonshik bites his lip and pushes in, hips slapping loudly against Jaehwan’s skin, driving into Jaehwan’s body with more force -- hopefully satisfying the writhing body beneath.

‘ _Faster,_ ’ Jaehwan whispers now, a mantra of breathless gasps escaping that perfect, swollen mouth when Wonshik, always so _weak_ , increases his pace -- nails digging into Jaehwan’s skin, Wonshik’s hips and thighs aching with the strain of it all -- efforts rewarded with Jaehwan’s response: the way Jaehwan _arches_ his back and cries out so prettily, nails raking down Wonshik’s back, ass squeezing so fucking _tightly_ \--

Wonshik’s orgasm rushes out of him way too _quickly_ , he’s coming faster than he’d expected to -- hot load spilling into the small, shivering body beneath. Wonshik heaves as he circles fingers around a whining Jaehwan’s neglected length, stroking up and down, and then Jaehwan’s also coming: with a broken little sound, eyes clenching shut, thin spurts of milky fluid staining the smooth skin of his tummy, his chest.

Caught in the high and flurry of the moment -- Wonshik leans down, eyes heavy-lidded, focused only on the strawberry pink of Jaehwan’s glistening, parted mouth. Unsure of what he’s expecting, pushing his face against Jaehwan’s -- _maybe, finally the feeling of those soft-looking lips pressed against his own_ \--

But Jaehwan’s turning away before anything happens, head falling towards the opposite side.

The sounds of Jaehwan’s soft panting resounds in the dead quiet of the room.

Wonshik blinks slowly, and retreats -- pushing himself up and pulling out of Jaehwan carefully, not once a thought occurring to him that he should be cleaning up; entire being consumed with nothing but a feeling of _emptiness._ Wonshik tucks himself underneath the covers, hugging at his pillow -- a sour twinge in his nose, a watery sensation in his eyes.

There’s a small, burning feeling on the left side of his hip -- and Wonshik doesn’t dare to look.

 

//

 

‘About yesterday night,’ Wonshik bites his lip, blankly stirring the leftover cereal bits in his bowl around. ‘Was that… _anything_?’

Jaehwan doesn’t answer, for a while. Wonshik looks up, and understands the look of guilt in those wide eyes. A stab of pain in his chest.

‘I guess… it was just…’ Jaehwan’s pretty bottom lip worried between his teeth, leg shaking unconsciously. ‘-- _that._ ’

_Ah._

‘Do you still… love him?’

Jaehwan stills. A long pause.

Wonshik feels bit after bit of his soul _crumbling_ into nothingness, with each passing second.

The tattoo on Jaehwan’s wrist burns.

_‘No.’_

Voice soft, and lacking so much conviction.

Wonshik leaves it at that.

He doesn’t tell Jaehwan about the tattoo he’d just discovered, this very morning, on his left hip: _a pretty, detailed rose -- in the centre of it a deep red, colour lightening gradually to a soft white at the petals’ edges._

 

//

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> -it wasn't supposed to end like this, but i paused here, and i thought it worked too, and i was like... why not.  
> -im not sure if i should still continue the story because i had actually planned out a happy ending? a longer part to this that's still unwritten.  
> -comments and kudos are loved <3


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